[The Temptation of a Blank Message]

I'm quite adept at using seductive tricks. Perhaps because I'm naturally quiet and reserved, and lack striking looks, I often can't use physical seduction, but rather subtle writing… It almost always works, never failing.

However, many times, I don't actually intend to seduce anyone, but my words still convey a nurturing element of ambiguity… Here are a few examples: 1.

In

1999, I wanted to change jobs. I was tired of receiving and sending documents, relaying various notices and meetings, and running between departments delivering newspapers and mail… But my mother taught me that I should be an upright person, a proper college graduate, and not engage in gift-giving or networking. So, I devised a plan.

I spent many nights writing a very serious, sincere, and well-reasoned letter to my boss, trying my best to convey the vision and aspirations of an idealistic and ambitious young person… At the time, I was also practicing calligraphy, so my handwriting was neat and elegant. If it weren't for the nature of the matter, I think I could have written a long, melancholic poem.

After writing it, I read it over several times. It was truly beautifully written, neither arrogant nor humble, displaying a romantic idealism. I wondered then: what kind of person could bear to refuse it?

The next day, while distributing newspapers, I thought of slipping the letter inside to my boss, hoping to add a subtle touch of brightness to his dull life and make him feel that this woman's hesitant desire was hard to refuse… But then, after carefully writing it, putting it in a generic, unremarkable envelope printed by the company, and then tucking it into the newspaper, I knocked on my boss's door. He wasn't there; the door was locked… I hesitated…

After thinking for a while, I suddenly felt it was even better that my boss wasn't there. So, hey, I slipped the newspaper and letter together under the door… Wasn't that even more ambiguous? And it avoided the embarrassment of my boss seeing it and asking me questions in person.

For a week after delivering the letter, every time I handed out newspapers, I hoped the boss's door was closed, so I could repeat my trick and stuff the newspaper in, avoiding his questioning or reprimands... even if it was just to his face about changing jobs... But, the boss couldn't be busy every day. Three days later, after delivering the newspapers, just as I was about to turn and leave, the boss's deep voice came from behind me: "Xiao Su, wait a moment."

My heart started pounding wildly, like a dozen drumsticks pounding on my chest.

"From now on, if you have anything to say, just come to me directly. Don't write anything... Your handwriting is very good..."

I stood in the middle of his office, head down, like a child who had done something wrong.

"Okay, it's alright."

He picked up his teacup and took a sip... I knew I could leave. Good heavens, he didn't say a word... I unconsciously patted my chest and quickly ran out, my high heels clattering rapidly on the floor... He was probably about to laugh at my retreating figure...

A few days later, I went to my boss's office to wait for him to sign some documents. I happened to see him and the HR manager holding a list of people marked with many pencil symbols... A glance caught my eye, and I saw my name circled, with an arcing arrow pointing to a popular company... Oh my god...

I silently waited for my boss to finish signing, my heart pounding with barely suppressed happiness.

Two weeks later, sure enough, there was a personnel adjustment... I was on duty that day when a colleague walked up to me and asked, puzzled, "Why did you go there? It's a place with nothing!"

"Huh? How did you know? It's decided?" My brain couldn't process it for a moment. Didn't I see a relaxed job with good benefits?

"It'll be posted soon, you'll see it." I was so anxious... I even felt a pang of regret.

And it was posted! I really

couldn't understand what had happened.

Many people thought I, a quiet woman, was just making things difficult for myself. The office was so great—close to the boss, in charge of the official seal, a crucial link between superiors and subordinates… Only a fool would leave the bureau to go to a lower-level department…

I was also very depressed.

A couple of days later, the boss came to my office. I was cleaning, and no one else was around. He said, "Is it alright here?… There are advantages to working at the grassroots level. You don't have to work shifts, you have more free time…" He paused, then added, "I'm going to a meeting tomorrow, it might take three days."

…Gradually, I seemed to sense these advantages the boss mentioned, so I felt reassured. However, he started coming to our office more and more often, often revealing his whereabouts for the next few days.

Until one day… one day, he said, "Let's be friends…"

Heh, the story ends here. I won't write the rest; the part about "temptation" has been explained.

Two

personnel changes made him my boss, and he got a new office and a new dorm. It

was almost the end of the workday when he finally got busy.

A grown man, carrying bedding and a huge pile of clothes, one sleeve of his shirt almost dragging on the floor, looking quite disheveled.

I was holding a thin document between my fingers as we approached.

I wanted to pretend I didn't see him and walk past, but a pang of pity struck me.

I said, "Let me help you carry some,"

and hurriedly grabbed a pile of clothes.

I had no intention of flattering him; only sympathy for his disheveled appearance… Men always have some vulnerable moments that make you feel sorry for them.

His new dorm was still a mess.

I piled the clothes on his bed, which wasn't yet covered with sheets. Looking at the dusty table, I silently grabbed a rag and a basin and went to the washroom.

I turned back and wiped the table for him, glancing sideways as he made his bed and folded his clothes.

After quickly wiping the table, I said, "I'll do it."

The bed was made in no time. Seeing him organizing the filing cabinet, I helped him fold his clothes. I noticed a light blue shirt with a dirty collar and cuffs, so without asking his opinion, I found some laundry detergent and took it to the washroom.

After washing, I brought the basin in and said to him, "Find a clothes hanger."

He silently finished, not looking at me.

I walked away as if nothing had happened.

Not long after, on a gloomy, rainy day, I felt inexplicably irritable and excited, restless and fidgety. Later, I thought about it and found a document that I could sign or not sign, and took it to his office.

Standing beside his desk… that day, my skirt was so slender I could wrap my hand around it, the hem barely reaching my knees.

The afternoon was cool with the light rain, but as I approached him, a warmth slowly emanated from me.

It was a document he seemed indifferent to, yet he picked up his pen and read it line by line, occasionally scrutinizing a particular word, speaking vaguely… We were very close, yet not quite touching.

I thought if he were to give me a gentle hug, it would be just right, and he would embrace my buttocks… But he didn't look up, just slowly and deliberately finished reading the document, tapping the pen tip on the paper, and then asked, “Did the other leaders sign it?”

I smiled, said nothing, picked up the document with its cover covered in signatures, and left… A warm current surged through my body, slowly fading into emptiness.

A month or two later, I was on a business trip and texted him to ask him a favor. He quickly helped, and I texted back to thank him. He replied, “When are you coming back? Everyone misses you.”

I asked, “Are you among them?”

His reply was a blank message.

Ah… so, there was a period of temptation.

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[The Temptation of a Blank Message]

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